SEVERAL months have passed away since the Temples began making their model of the Tabernacle of Israel. The leaves which were then green on the trees, have become yellow, have faded and fallen; save those on the evergreens, which wear a silver crusting of frost. But it is not to Cedar Lodge that I shall take my young readers, but to a large and rather plain brick house in the city of Chester. It is a house by no means beautiful to the eye, and its only look-out is into a narrow paved street; but still that house has a charm of its own, it is dear to many a heart, for its owner, Miss Theodora Clare, is the friend and benefactress of the poor around. Many have entered sadly through the dark green door of that red-brick house, who have left it cheerfully, blessing the kind heart and liberal hand of its lady.
It is just two days before Christmas: on the morrow Miss Clare’s Ragged School is to have its annual treat. A feast and gifts of warm socks or mittens knitted for each child by the lady’s own hands, are not to form the only, or perhaps the chief attractions of the treat; the little scholars have been promised a sight of the model Tabernacle, which its young makers are to bring from their country home, about ten miles away. Christmas Eve has been fixed upon by Miss Clare as the time for her Ragged School Fête, because it is the birthday of her twin nieces, the younger of whom is her namesake. The arrival of the Temple family is expected almost every minute, and Miss Clare sits by the window, with the red glow of a December sun upon her, glancing up with a look of pleasant expectation whenever she hears the rattle of wheels along the narrow paved street. You might guess at once by the likeness between them that Miss Clare is the sister of Mrs. Temple, though her figure is a little taller, and her locks a little whiter than those of the widow lady.
Miss Clare is evidently thinking; she looks a little perplexed and doubtful as she examines the contents of a large old-fashioned ebony box which holds her little treasures. Not treasures of silver or gold; there are but few indeed of such things in the possession of Theodora Clare: her silver spoons have fed the hungry; her gold chain has paid for the benches on which her ragged scholars sit, and her bracelets for the books which they learn from, and the big blackboard on the wall. A good many pairs of stout little shoes have come out of Miss Clare’s silver tea-pot! But there is one article of jewellery which the lady still possesses, and this is to her the most precious of all. It is the likeness of her sister, Mrs. Temple, in a brooch, set round with pearls. This was the gift of Mr. Temple on his wedding-day to the bridesmaid, Theodora; it is very beautiful as an ornament, and as a likeness almost perfect. But not even this jewel does the generous lady intend to keep for herself; it is to be her birthday present on the following day to Dora.